The girl in the smithy
by Magdelope
Summary: Femslash. Cassandra Pentaghast/OC. Could be set during DA3, maybe? Come back to me, Cassandra, come back to me. Place my hand on your warm cheek and let me feel your heart beat one more time. Don't perish, don't leave me, let me see you again.
1. Chapter 1-Amelie

Come back to me, Cassandra, come back to me. Place my hand on your warm cheek and let me feel your heart beat one more time. Don't perish, don't leave me, let me see you again.

I remember the first time I met; the hot iron scolding my fingers and the pieces of thin fabric that I had wrapped around my knuckles didn't help. The iron would have fallen from my grasp and hurt my leg but a heavy hand caught it before it hit me. Your hand. I looked up. "Thank you, ser," was on my lips but two kind eyes met mine and the words didn't pass my lips. You asked me why a girl like me was in charge of the smithy. I replied that somebody had to do it; my father and brothers had been called to the army. You gave me a sovereign and then left.

You came back the next day, saw the bruises on my legs, and my arms. The scorch marks. The black eye I had from when one of my customers had refused to pay for a sword when he realised it had been made by me. You looked hungry and tired; I asked if you wanted any food. You accepted and I made you a simple meal of fish and bread. You laughed when you saw that I cooked our food in the same oven that forged the weapons. I offered to make you a sword, and while you sat and ate I worked. You continued watching me with those eyes intently, burning into me and I felt myself trembling. I found myself wishing that you could have met me before my mother died and father left, when my hair was still brushed and washed, when my arms weren't bruised and my skin was still immaculate. I felt ugly and I wanted to be beautiful in your eyes.

When you came back a week later I presented you with the sword. "I hope it suits you," I said, my voice reduced to a whisper. You nodded and took it without a word. You fastened it on your back. "How much do you want for it?" I found myself stuttering, nothing, no, of course not, it's yours, my pleasure. You nodded again, too tired from battle. I suddenly noticed that your arm was hurt, and you look pained when you moved. What could I have done except invite you into my home?

You sat there, on my chair, by my table and let me strip you of your armour. You moved your face, didn't want to see the cut; you were brave. It wasn't shallow, my love, but you hadn't asked for help. Your bare arm held more scars than I could ever had imagined and I wanted to touch each one. Kiss each mark and blemish. Instead I cleaned your wound and dressed it with a cloth and some herbs for the pain.

"How is the war going?" I asked to break the silence.

"We will win."

I waited for you to say anything else, but you remained quiet, looking out of the window.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"My name is Cassandra Pentaghast,"

"Amelie," I said, offering my name even though you haven't asked.

"I… should go," _No, don't go, just stay for a little while longer._

"You can sleep in my brother's room," I said.

You stayed for a whole week. Didn't speak much but shared my meals with me, helped me in the smithy and listened to me when I talked. You helped me when customers complained or got to rowdy; I felt safer with you sleeping under my roof.

You left and I missed you. We got messaged daily about villages fallen to the war, our world being torn asunder. We heard about fallen heroes, and I found myself asking. _Cassandra Pentaghast, any information about her? _My heart in my throat. Five weeks I waited. Five weeks I prayed. Five weeks I worried.

This time when I saw you walking towards my smithy, I left my tools, my apron and pyre. Without thinking I ran towards you and for some reason you opened your arms. "I was so worried," I whispered in your ear, my heart beating loudly and my mouth dry. Before letting go, I knew I had to, I pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You looked tired like you always did, but there was a spark in your eyes that I didn't recognize; and a smile on your lips. _I hadn't known you could smile._

Us. We. Together. No clothes; just bandages, scars, blood and us; so much of us, so much skin. Skin. My hands in your hair as you kissed and bit my lips. As we held each other on my childhood bed, your silence a sharp contrast to my cries in the night. _I love you. _I couldn't say it. But I _knew_ you, and I have loved you since the day I was born.

It is cold now, and the war is creeping closer; my village being the last one untouched. Most people have left but I wait here, hoping that if I stay you will come and find me one last time.

I can hear the wind and storm outside, something brewing in the shadows. I have closed my doors and shutters and am waiting for the end. I will die dreaming of your dark short hair, your warm brown eyes and your strong and fair demeanour. I know you won't come for me this time; I am too insignificant compared to your responsibilities.


	2. Chapter 2 -Cassandra

I woke up next to her. _Amelie. _Her curly fair hair, spread over the rugged pillow. She was a mistake, I knew it but something about her had made me unable to control myself. I was a seeker of the chantry; abstinence wasn't just expected but required of me. I was Cassandra Pentaghast, a name I held with pride, yet it seemed so much more beautiful coming from her lips. I let her take off my armor, I let her kiss me and touch me and I reciprocated with a hunger and passion that I didn't know had existed in me.

I want to say that I was lost when she came running and threw herself in my arms, but I know that I was lost before that. I was lost before I let her clean my wounds with careful, delicate fingers. I was lost the moment I laid my eyes on her and I belonged to her before I knew her.

I knew I had to go and I knew that I would never see her again. Our world is being torn asunder; this is not the time for love. I have a duty, I am on a mission, I am an important figure. Nobody else can do what I do. _I can't give it up, not even for you._

She was so shy when loosening the front of her tunic, giving me easier access. I wanted to tell her that I found her beautiful despite the blemishes and scars. It didn't matter that her hands were course from hard work. I kissed each of her fingers, her knuckles, her wrist; I kissed her eyelids, eyebrows, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. Her lips had the colour of raspberries but they tasted so much better than bitter berries. When our kiss deepened and her hands came up to undo the clasps of my breastplate I was ready to throw duty and my title out the window; anything to be with her.

She whispered something close to my ear as she pushed me back on her bed and laid down next to me; one of her hands in my hair. I couldn't hear for the blood rushing in my head.

For a few moments nothing else mattered or existed. Clothes were taken off and thrown on the floor, and I was taken back in awe in how completely perfect she looked. I have never had more faith in the maker than I did then. My faith had been wavering but as Amelie's naked flesh touched mine for the first time, I believed. _I believed_.

It didn't matter that the Fade was on top of our heads; it didn't matter that my arms were bandaged; it didn't matter that we were doomed; it didn't matter that this was all we would ever have. We both knew this, as I sighed and she cried and tried to pull me even closer. Answering my silent request, _love me, Amalie. I love you, _she answered with her loving gaze, her shuddering body and her arms that were holding me close.

I left her some money when I left the next day, don't know if it helped. People were fleeing in every direction possible, but I knew that she would stay and wait for me. I didn't even bother telling her to go, there was nowhere to go. _Go in and bar your door and windows, _I told her instead, _I will try to come for you. _I had to fulfill my part, then I would be free. Maybe start up a smithy somewhere.

"Cassandra!" She called after me as I started walking away, off to battle once more, "Cassandra Pentaghast, seeker of the chantry." I turned around and even though her eyes were sad her mouth was smiling. _Amalie. My Amalie._

She had once more reminded me that my name didn't have to be a burden.


End file.
